


where do we go from here

by iwritetrash



Category: Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain | Amélie (2001), Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, the amelie au that nobody asked for, you don't need to know the film to read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13881048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritetrash/pseuds/iwritetrash
Summary: alfred finds a notebook, which belongs to the attractive young gentleman he's noticed at the train station several times. fixed in his resolve to become a do-gooder, alfred decides to return the notebook, but gets a little more than he bargained for when he falls in love with the man through his poetry.





	where do we go from here

**Author's Note:**

> okay i was watching amélie and this au just... happened. it's mostly based on the film but also draws a little bit on the musical, but you don't have to know either to get this au, hopefully it all makes sense without those. but yeah, i just really loved this concept so i made it happen

Alfred has given himself a mission: to become a good-deed-doer. Whether it’s returning long-lost childhood treasures to the former occupant of his flat, or forging a love letter to give his landlady some closure, or talking to the woman on the floor below him, who never leaves her own flat for fear she’ll break every bone in her body.

Charlotte Montagu Douglas Scott suffers from a rare bone disease, which has kept her almost completely isolated from the world for her own safety, with only the company of her niece, Wilhelmina, to stop her from wasting away in her flat. Alfred, who works with Wilhelmina at a small local café, had agreed to visit Charlotte regularly after Wilhelmina moved out to live with her girlfriend, Florence, and, though Charlotte could be grumpy from time to time (read: all the time), she was decent company.

She also gave good advice, most of the time, which is why it is her that Alfred turns to when he finds the notebook belonging to the handsome stranger he’d spotted several times at the train station when he went to visit his father. The man had gotten up in a hurry, seemingly about to miss his train, and had left his notebook on the bench he usually sat on. Alfred hadn’t meant to be nosy, but he couldn’t help but open it to have a look, since it seemed that the stranger was always scribbling in it.

The book turned out to be filled with poetry, scribbled by hand with numerous crossings-out and rewordings. Alfred, who had turned to books for companionship to compensate for the fact that his father was spread too thinly across his many children to pay Alfred much specific attention, read the poetry with hungry eyes, fascinated by the stranger’s intricate verse.

When the posters had turned up hardly a day later advertising the missing book, Alfred had been torn. On the one hand, it provided him with the perfect opportunity to contact and speak to this handsome stranger he’d been so fascinated with over the past few weeks, but on the other it would act as a reality check. Alfred had, without a doubt, fallen a little bit in love with the man through his poetry, and he couldn’t bear to face a reality where his stranger wasn’t quite what he seemed.

Charlotte had told him to get over himself and call, and so he had, only to find that the number he dialled was one for a sex shop. That was certainly an uncomfortable phone call.

Still, Alfred wasn’t so easily phased. He decided to visit the address listed on the posters, only to find that the address led him to the very same sex shop. _Curiouser and curiouser,_ Alfred thought, stepping inside and doing his best not to look too closely at his surroundings.

The woman behind the counter had told him that the man he was looking for was called Edward Drummond, and that he didn’t work weekends because he volunteered for a local food bank every Saturday and Sunday. Alfred had smiled a little, before scribbling a note on a piece of paper and asking Edward’s co-worker to give it to him next time he’s working.

_Tuesday, 5pm, Victoria’s Café, Kings Cross Station._

He had held onto the book, just for the time being, because he wasn’t not finished with it, right? He was only halfway through the poetry… and maybe he had wanted to hold onto the dream a little bit longer. The more he’d learned about Edward, the more intrigued he had become. Alfred could only hope Edward got his note in time. 

It’s looking like that might not be the case when Tuesday night rolls around, after days of stressing, and the hands on the clock tick slowly past five. Either Edward never got the note, or perhaps he had, but on the way to the café he had been in a horrific car accident, which had left him with permanent amnesia, and therefore no memory of Alfred or of his lost book. Maybe he’ll fall in love with a nurse instead, while he spent month on ends learning to walk again in the hospital, and they’ll get married, and have seven children, and live in a grand old house, and all because Edward had gotten a taxi instead of taking the train.

It’s as this sequence of events is running through Alfred’s head that Edward stumbles through the door, exactly thirteen minutes late, and is greeted by Harriet, Alfred’s lifelong friend and fellow waitress. Alfred’s knees feel weak all of a sudden, and he thinks he might just faint if Edward so much as looks his way right now. He doesn’t.

Instead, Edward is ordering a coffee and sitting expectantly at a table, and Alfred’s hands shake as he fumbles with the buttons on the coffee machine, because he hadn’t really planned for what to do if Edward actually _showed up_. Alfred takes Edward’s coffee over, and he’s thinking of maybe introducing himself but then Edward flashes him a grin and Alfred’s tongue loses the ability to form words.

Thankfully, it seems, Edward is still perfectly coherent.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” He asks, still smiling, “the one who left me this note?”

Alfred shakes his head. He’s not sure why he’s denying it, maybe he’s going crazy, who knows, but he can’t find it in himself to let go of the ruse just yet.

“It is, I know it is, my friend told me; attractive guy, medium height, crazy blond hair, blue eyes… It’s got to be you,” Edward persists.

Alfred shrugs, still rendered mute by that smile, before awkwardly turning to walk away, mentally cursing himself for being so stupid. He thinks he might just need to hide under a table and erase the last few minutes from his memory to stop himself going insane.

He spends the rest of his shift hiding behind the counter and refusing to look in Edward’s direction, until eventually Harriet clocks out, and Wilhelmina comments on the fact that she seems to have pulled during her shift, leaving the restaurant with none other than Edward in tow. Alfred’s heart shatters right then and there.

The unfortunate fact is that Alfred is blissfully oblivious to Harriet’s good intentions; far from planning to steal Edward away from Alfred, she actually wants to make sure Edward is good enough for him.

“Look, Edward, I like you, which is what worries me,” Harriet says, as they walk aimlessly around the block, “I have terrible taste in men. They’re all married, or obsessive, or downright weird, which is why I need to hear from you outright that you’re not a bad person.” 

“I, uh, I think I’m alright, I guess?” Edward stammers. He’s a little bit intimidated to say the least.

“Alfred is a great guy, okay, but he’s shy, and he’s had his heart broken once or twice, so you’re definitely going to have to go after him. But he’s worth it, you know? I just don’t want to see him get hurt.”

“I don’t want to hurt him. I really like him, even though I hardly know anything about him, it just… it didn’t seem like he was interested back there in the café?" 

“He is, trust me. The only time he’s not flirting shamelessly is when he actually cares what people think,” Harriet smiles, before pulling a loose receipt and a pen from her pocket and scribbling on it. “Here’s his number and address. You seem alright, Edward; I really hope you don’t make me regret this,” She presses the receipt into his hand with another smile and sends him on his way.

Unfortunately, Alfred doesn’t know any of that. He’s imagining something along the lines of a romantic stroll through the park, while the sun sets behind them; Edward and Harriet will fall in love right away and soon enough Alfred will be the best man at their wedding and the godfather to their children.

Alfred is at home, pouring himself a quite sizeable glass of wine and thinking over this scenario in his head and feeling like he might just burst into tears when he hears a knock on the door. He doesn’t dare open it, especially when he hears Edward’s voice on the other side, and he feels that same feeling from earlier flood him, that same fear of losing his grip on the dream and being forced to confront reality.

His brain tells him it’s now or never, and that surely the incident with Harriet should act as a warning that if he doesn’t take a shot then he’ll never know what could have been.

“I can hear you on the other side of the door,” Edward says, “You don’t have to let me in, but just… just hear me out, okay?”

Alfred doesn’t respond, but he does lean in to press his ear to the door.

“I have been chasing you all over the city, and… I don’t think you would have kept trying to carry on with… whatever this is, if it didn’t mean something to you. I, uh, I’ll understand if you tell me I’m wrong, but I’ve fallen a little bit in love with everything I know about you so far, and I want to fall in love with the rest of you too, but I… I can’t do that if you won’t let me in." 

Alfred hesitates fingers dancing over the handle without him realising it. Before he can do anything, or say anything either way, his phone rings. It’s Charlotte from downstairs.

“Let that boy in, Alfred, before he gives up once and for all,” She says, sternly but kindly, not even greeting him, or saying anything else at all for that matter, before she hangs up again. 

 _Well then_ , Alfred thinks, _that settles it_.

He takes the chain off the door, and he’s certain Edward hears it, and then he’s twisting the handle, opening the door to let Edward in, and stepping back, as though now is the time to exercise complete caution. To his credit, Edward doesn’t chase him into his own flat; he lets Alfred keep his distance for a few moments while he reads the situation.

And then Alfred is stepping forward with slow, tentative movements, placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder, moving into his space, licking his lips and willing Edward to kiss him first. Edward doesn’t need any more convincing to crash their lips together.

Afterwards, as he lies in bed with Edward cradled in his arms, Alfred wonders what on earth he was so worried about. In that moment he sees the years ahead of them flash past his eyes; dating, moving in together, getting married, having children, growing old together… he stops himself right there. Perhaps it is time he lived in the present, and let these moments ahead of them unfold for themselves. Maybe that future is what fate has in store for them, and maybe it isn’t, but, either way, Alfred is happy to have this moment right now with Edward.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you guys though, hopefully it all made sense!! 
> 
> thank you, as always, for reading <3


End file.
